


The Game

by Strawberry_Lovers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Author doesn't know what tags to use, Author likes the F word, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Slow Build, Slow To Update, Time Manipulation, Violence, soul bonds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 15:28:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16452551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberry_Lovers/pseuds/Strawberry_Lovers
Summary: I once read a story where the protagonist’s life was manipulated by two gods in the midst of a chess game. The success of the protagonist determined the winner of the game. While my gods play something more closely related to poker than chess, a game is still a game.





	1. Author Note

# The Game

A Random Bowser, Strawberry_Lovers  
fanfiction.net  
archiveofourown.org

### Author Note

Most authors of Fan Fic feel a need at some point to add a polite disclaimer stating they have no title to the characters and have no desire or interest in making money from somebody else's intellectual property. This could be viewed as careful prudence or common courtesy to the original author. (OurLawyersAdvisedThisTrope, tvtropes.org)

As I have greatly enjoyed the Harry Potter series, both as a teen and an adult, and have been greatly inspired by the world created by J. K. Rowling, this is me showing some prudence and giving my respect to the author of such a long-lasting, impactful series.

I hope that all who read this work of fan fiction are able to find some of the joy inspired by the series.

### Summary

This story is loosely based on reptilia28’s Don't Fear the Reaper Challenge. I have done my best to add my own personal spin to the story to make it both creative and original while sticking to what I could find of the rules and guidelines.

I once read a story where the protagonist’s life was manipulated by two gods in the midst of a chess game. The success of the protagonist determined the winner of the game. If I could remember the title of the novel I would include it as well, for that story serves as the main inspiration for The Game. I should also mention that any of the power cards found within the game are inspired by the game Magic.

This story has recently overgone a complete overhaul. I have edited extensively and I do hope readers old and new appreciate the changes that have been made. Even though there have been many changes, the original idea remains the same, "Life is but a game, played by beings that have a longer lifespan than our own. Sadly, we can only play the cards they give us and hope Lady Luck isn't smiling down on the opposing side."

Finally, I would like to say that the old version of this story is still up under the same name on fanfiction.com as I wanted to finish edits before I update the story over there. As well as give a very large hug of gratitude to my dear friend Nixie the Midwolf Nox who has been so patiently helping me with the editing and proofreading of this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this, thank you.


	2. Chapter 1: Ante Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I once read a story where the protagonist’s life was manipulated by two gods in the midst of a chess game. The success of the protagonist determined the winner of the game. While my gods play something more closely related to poker than chess, a game is still a game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without any more ramble, I give you The Game...
> 
> I do hope you enjoy

# The Game: Ante Up

_If you must play, decide upon three things at the start: the rules of the game, the stakes, and the quitting time. ~ Chinese Proverb_

_Poker is like sex. If you don’t have a good partner, you better have a good hand. ~ unknown_

### 

Harry barely glanced at the tombstones as he walked through the cemetery towards his parents' grave. He had been coming here twice a year since he learned where their burial site was, to try and feel connected to a part of the world he had fought for. Not that it ever made a difference, but at least this way he could tell Hermione he was trying. He had felt even more lost in the three months since the Battle of Hogwarts, as the press insisted on calling the final battle. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was left undone, that he had missed something, forgotten some important detail. It was as if a faraway voice was yelling in his mind telling him to do….something.

Hermione was insistent that his inability to move on from the war was caused by the fact that he had not yet adjusted to the lack of stress, to winning, to well...surviving, but yeah…..that was winning, right? She was forever harping on him to “try living for a change! Travel, study something new, start dating Ginny again-” like that was going to happen-”Fuck’s sake Harry, buy a house and plant a bloody garden of cacti for all I care, just do try and be happy, damn it.” For the time being, this visit should be enough to keep Hermione off his back. At least that is what he hoped...

There was magic in the air today. Harry could feel it dancing across his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps despite the warmth of the early afternoon sun. Harry wasn't aware that the statue was there until he was resting against it, his weary body too tired to continue towards his destination. Harry was grateful for the shelter provided by the large stone wings of a weeping angel, and he wondered how many before him sat on the same bench beneath her in the same manner that he was currently doing. Harry let his eye drift closed, resting in the calm silence of the cemetery. It was peaceful in comparison to the world he now lived in, and he was grateful for the time to simply and rest against the angel's heated stone figure.

Peace almost seemed intangible to him, like the concept of a god or true love, Peace seemed rather surreal, hard to believe because he felt so little of it, and what little peace he did feel was often associated with death. It was easier to believe in a momentary pause in the chaos that was his mind then to accept peace.

He dwelt on the thought as rested, his mind in motion despite the stillness of his body, fighting off the peace that was tempting him with notions of a nap in the warm sun. Knowing that should he accept the momentary peace, he would be inviting something to happen, and something….something was usually bad.

Despite not wanting to sleep, Harry woke to find the sky darkening, a muted rainbow taking over the horizon and making the cemetery look almost romantic, if a place that was a constant reminder of death and suffering could be considered romantic. He groaned as he stood, stretching and shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to rid himself of the lingering stiffness as he scanned his surroundings, alert for trouble, the days of fighting and running still present in a corner of his mind. Harry turned and meandered out of the graveyard. His pace and stance deceptively relaxed as he made his way toward the exit, his previous destination forgotten.

As he walked down the street towards the bus stop, he questioned himself as to why he was sticking to muggle means of transportation rather than readily calling the Knight Bus or apparating. Harry quashed the thought, changing his mind about boarding what he was sure would be an overcrowded-to-him-bus and wearily taking in his surroundings as he walked the distance to his small apartment. He was less than a half a block away when he stopped, taking in the sight of a young couple rolling a pair of dice back and forth between them in some form of the game that he did not understand. They must be new to the building, as Harry had taken the time to meet all of his neighbors and he hadn’t seen the pair, or was it a trio-he wondered eyes catching the figure blending in with the shadows darkening the front of the building, before.

Harry studied the group, suspicious, as he had not seen them in the area before. Mentally, he placed them to be in their mid to late twenties based on their looks, though one could never be sure. They were both pretty, the male with long chestnut colored hair that was tied back into a low hanging tail with deep brown eyes and the female with short blonde hair and silver-blue eyes that made him think of Luna. In a way, they reminded him of those old paintings Hermione had gone on and on about on a rare trip to The National Gallery. No words were spoken between the two strangers, though it seemed as if a conversation was taking place through quick glances and subtle shifts in their bodies. They didn’t appear to be a threat, but, during the war, Harry had learned that he could never be too cautious if nothing else.

A cold wind blew and Harry shivered, wrapping his arms around himself for warmth. He took in the lengthening shadows in attempting to gauge how long he had been lost in watching the game the strangers were playing and wondering at what point he had crossed the street. It was very unlike him to be so unaware, and yet this was twice now he had done so. Harry scowled when the blonde offered the dice to him, holding them flat in the palm of her hand as she lifted it upward. Mentally, Harry was reluctant to join them. It wasn’t safe. They were strangers, not to be trusted. He fingered the wand, hidden in the sleeve of his shirt, biting his lower lip as he debated. He really hadn’t intended to cross the road, to join them, though at some point he had, and the blonde wasn’t moving, her eyes wide in that way Luna always had before sharing some important piece of information. Maybe...maybe this moment was when he would discover his purpose now that he had achieved the one goal he ever really thought on. Perhaps she had some missing piece of information that would help him to live, or, at the very least move forward.

“What the fuck am I thinking?” Harry wondered, shaking his head and raising his hands with every intention of refusing. “Still…”

Harry sighed accepting the dice, lightly plucking them from the woman's fingers. He rolled them around in his hand, getting used to the feel and weight of them. As he prepared to toss the dice, a dark brown hand touched the inside of his wrist, stopping the movement. Harry stared into chocolate brown eyes of the man for a moment, clenching his hand into a fist so that the sharp edges of the dice pressed into his fingers and palms. It was only his strength of will that had Harry relaxing as the fingers that held him gently opened his hand.

_"A lady never leaves her escort_  
_It isn't fair; it isn't nice_  
_A lady doesn't wander all over the room_  
_And blow on some other guy's dice."_

The song lyrics seemed to drift in on the wind, as pink tinted lips pierced and blew gently across the dice coarse dark hair brushing against his arm as a second woman pulled away, tightening her fingers around his own as she closed them around the dice once more. Harry’s eyes widened as the woman merged back into the shadows near the building and his lips twisted into something between a smirk and a grimace as he tossed the dice. “Well, fuck,” Harry muttered as the dice disappeared in mid-air, wondering what forces were screwing with him now.

He didn’t know who it was that pushed him backward off the curb. His eyes focused on the spot where the dice had been before they disappeared, never even realizing he was falling until the large black car was slamming into his side. His head whipped around, forcing his eyes to meet with the red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes of the pasty-faced driver. ‘Fucker’s supposed to be dead.’ He thought before his head slammed into the pavement. There was a crunching and a ringing, and then...nothing.

###### 

Order’s eyes gleamed in the light of the viewing board. The wide open, almost protruding icy blue eyes and raised eyebrows combined with a mere upward turn of thin lips, gave the god a crazed triumphant look.

“This round is closed. Death opens the Final Round.” Chaos said, shivering slightly as his crazed looking brother leaned forward, hands clenching around the viewing table. Chaos forced himself to take a deep breath in, and then out, sighing in relief as Order finally pushed away from the table, shoulders up, back straight, all confidence and pride once more.

Death forced herself to stay put, to pretend to be frozen in shock, despair, until all others had left the table. Her final move had cost her more than just the round, all the points she had saved in the five previous rounds were now gone. She would be starting the seventh round of the Game, the final round, with only three points and whatever the dice gave her. If she didn’t react in just the right manner, then the card she had played on her final hand of the round, The Hidden Truth card, would be wasted. So far as Death knew there was only one such card in the deck. She had never heard of it appearing more than once in any game if it appeared at all.

Every power card in the deck had a minimum amount of moves required and most had a maximum number of moves that could be added to it. The more moves the player saved and paid for the use of a power card, the stronger the card’s effect. The Hidden Truth card was different from every other card. Instead of requiring a set number of moves as the initial price it required one to sacrifice a character. The strength of the secret was determined by the value the player placed in the character they sacrificed. The number of secrets hidden, and the number of people the secret is hidden from are determined by the number of moves the player is willing to pay as an additional charge. This card though, and only this card, would last to the end of The Game, no matter the number of hands to be played. 

Death had held this card for five rounds now, saving it for this very moment. Still, she needed all the help The Game would provide for the moves she was planning to attempt in the coming round. She had given all she had, even the life of the character she had bought, just to help set up her victory. She could not afford to fail. After all, her plan would have repercussions beyond the end of The Game.

Death felt sad for the Harry Potter. Sure, he had her made her life difficult, but it wasn't as if he was purposefully screwing his life up, or causing her to lose so many rounds. Indeed, the poor lad simply was unfortunate enough to be her bought piece in the game and to be fair, she had not been kind to him. At least the fact that Lady Death was his player also gave him the character bonus of multiple lives.

None of this did any good at this stage, however. Lady Death was down to her last life. If Harry Potter died in the final round this round, she would not only be out of the game, but she would also be out of a job. Death had no doubt that her position was what The Order Lord wanted. His challenge for the right to control death is what started The Game in the first place. Not to mention, Order had been trying to get one of his lackeys in the position as caretaker for the dead for ages. She had already named a successor to her position but that wouldn't matter if she lost the game. The entry fee to play was one's job, their position, their power, and so her career (and life, for Death was more than just a job title) was on the line. Of course, the manipulative bastard had just as much to lose as she did but the prize was irresistible.

"Has he named a successor yet?" She allowed herself a brief moment to ponder the thought as watched the others, both players and spectators, refreshing their various drinks, or plotting for the final round. Death had already done all she could to prepare. Every loss a sacrifice to gain her bought piece points or a favor for herself. Points and favors, after all, were just as much a part of the game as dice rolls and power cards.

Love had joined her after the first round of the game, claiming that the sooner the game was won, the sooner his sex life would return to normal. Her lover had shot her a wink and a sexy grin from the opposite side of the room, the change to his masculine form causing Death to do a double take before smiling slowly and blowing a kiss in return. Royal, Love’s masculine persona, was as playful as a well cared for whore and as promiscuous as one too. While in the feminine form, Love might represent purity and truth, true love and simple partnerships, Royal was the hidden desire all beings- male or female, human or creature, mortal or immortal- felt.

Royal was currently propped against the bar along the far wall, holding a frothy pink concoction in a wide lipped, long-stemmed glass in one hand. The light spilling from the overhead lights gave his long dark brown tresses a reddish hue, and his brown eyes were focused on Destiny as if the statuesque goddess were a feast waiting to be eaten.

Destiny...Death leaned forward, folding her arms, bending one to rest against her forehead as she studied the petite curvy goddess that ordered the events surrounding the lives of mortals and heroes. ‘What,’ she wondered, ‘could Order and Chaos hold over her to keep her between them?’ For, according to Royal who could be trusted in such matters, Destiny was truly between the brothers in every sense of the word. Death shuddered, turning her eyes and face downward, as she thought of a world controlled by the never-ending fight between Order and Chaos….While this Game showed that the two could work together when they shared a common goal, it was a rare event. One that this world this game was being played with, as well as many others, would not experience should she lose.

Destiny looked rather...despondent as she perched on the edge of a bar stool at a high pub table, situated between the two brothers. Destiny’s dark curly hair was pulled into a low bun and Chaos reached out to tug at one of the few tendrils of hair that had escaped the elegant knot. The movement received no attention from the goddess in question, though. Her dark blue eyes remaining focused on the tabletop, her hands clasped nicely in her lap, and her lips firmly placed in a frown.

Neither Order nor Chaos seemed to notice the distress of their goddess, or else they just didn’t care, as they celebrated an early victory. An argument started up between them as Chaos insisted that they share the win, even if The Game was started through Order’s challenge, and as the bottle between them emptied, their voices grew louder. The occurrence was not unusual, the two brothers were often this way, working together one moment and fighting the next. It was their nature to do so when their eldest brother wasn’t around to balance them; though recently, Destiny had been managing to keep them both calm, or at least, calmer.

Death let her eyes skim over the few spectators in the room. Taking note of their presence, but counting them of no importance. Balance was there, as he always was when his two brothers, Order and Chaos, were involved in a game. Pain, Fear, and War also had made their presence known, watching from the sidelines and placing bets on the outcome of the game. Hope had somehow slipped in when no one was looking, the little girl hiding behind a potted fern in the corner. Thankfully, Time was not part of the crowd. The bitch was a bore on a good day and as uncouth as a street whore when drunk.

Death continued to allow her gaze to trail across the room until she finally settled on Luck. Or really, both types of Luck. The twin sisters, The Fickle Lady and Fair-Weather Friend, were engaged in a staring contest at another of the high pub tables. Quite a few were scattered across the game room for players to use when they were not at either the game table or the viewing table. A quarter gleamed between them, though neither of them reached for it yet. Only one of the pair would be allowed to play in the game, and a coin toss was required between each round to decide which of the two would be allowed the honor. Death could only hope that the gamble her dark-skinned lover played by allowing the coin to land Heads, giving favor to her sister, for the past six rounds paid off. She needed her Lucky Lady tonight, even if her second lover was a fickle bitch at times.

Death bowed her head and took a deep breath, steadying herself before looking up and moving to the game table rapping on the sturdy surface to gain the attention of the room. “Five minutes until the start of the final round.” To one side of her, Royal raised his glass in a toast, and from the corner of her eyes, Death saw the flash of a silver coin.

As dark as her twin was light, the Fickle Lady had made her allegiance clear early on by sitting herself between Death and Royal. Now, with a feral grin at her Fair-Weather sister, the Fickle Lady wound herself around Death like a pleased cat. The Lady’s feral grin and her fair sister’s sour look told Death who had won the coin toss.

While it is true that the Fickle Lady and the Fair-Weather Sister make it hard to forget that they are twins, the fact that they are together Lady Luck is often overlooked. Like the two sides of a coin, Luck's kindness, the ability the two sisters shared, switches between the two of them at the rule of Chance-heads the Fair-Weather Sister and tails the FIckle Lady. This round it seemed, Luck would be on her side.

Death nodded in the direction of her other lover, giving Royal permission to proceed with the distraction of Destiny, and in a soft voice that echoed like a mother's lullaby, she called out "Ante up, it is time for the final round of this game."

Chaos made a strange, strangled snorting sound, an obvious attempt to hold in his laughter, as Order’s eyes grew wide and his thin lips stretched in a toothy grin that made him appear as if he had one too many face jobs. In the rush for their preferred spots at the table, Royal had managed to insert himself between Order and Destiny. The sound was one that Death echoed. It was considered rude to laugh at other players after all, even if said player was cause for amusement.

Amusement was quickly ended though, and Death had to fight back a moue as the Fair-Weather Sister leaned heavily on Order, whispering in his ear and rubbing up against him like one of Royal's priestess. Death disliked the Fickle’s pale sister on principle alone, she didn’t want to have to watch the flaky bitch rub all over her current rival like a cat in heat, even if she did put on similar shows. Unfortunately, there were no rules against spectators having to keep to the viewing gallery during the rounds.

Her eyes strayed to where Royal stood. He did not look upset about having the Fair-Weather Sister join the group at the table as it gave him a reason to invade the personal space of Destiny. Her lover winked at her as one hand brushed against Destiny’s side, causing the goddess to jump. For all that Royal was loyal to her, Death knew that he, like the love he personified, could not be tied to only one or two beings.

A pinch on her side drew her away from the flirting pair and the blush staining Destiny's cheeks. Death greeted the Fickle Lady’s grin with one of her own before stealing a kiss. The Fickle Lady must have picked up on Death’s desire to show her sister what a real show should look like as the luck goddess wrapped around Death, the two of them embracing one another as if they were the only couple at the table.

Death’s eyes were wide open when she finally pulled away, making no attempt to hide her moistened lips or the deep drag she took of needed air. She rather enjoyed the distasteful twist of the nose Order displayed from beside her at the display and the Fair-Weather Sister’s hiss of disgust. She pecked Fickle on the nose, just to antagonize the pair further. “I’ll be right back, love, if you want to convince the spectators to take their seats.” Death murmured, keeping her voice soft enough to just be heard by those around the table and looking at Fair-Weather Sister as she mentioned spectators, just to make sure that everyone present knew who she was referring to. 

Giving the Fickle Lady a pinch on the side, she left the table, disappearing into shadows as the Game Room prepared itself for a round of play by dimming all lights except those over the two tables.

Royal cleared his throat as his lady disappeared into the shadows, drawing attention away from Fair-Weather Sister, who was stubbornly standing her ground, and onto him. "While my lady powders her nose, I propose a bit of a distraction. The Game should never get so boring, and really, were my lady not playing I would have left rounds ago.”

Royal paused to take a drink from his glass before continuing. “I move that we raise the wager on this little game, in order to stave off the boredom that is obviously plaguing it, what with everyone making the same stupid moves over and over. I say we make things a bit more…ahh, desperate." Royal said, grinning in anticipation. "I stake all of you not only my job but also that of my named successor."

Royal Love, a god appointed by some, a fickle mistress by others named, and a devilish rascal in his own right, smirked over the edge of his crystal goblet. That was Death's cue, and as everyone agreed and started paying the price of the round, she slunk away for a brief meeting in a dark corner of the room.

###### 

Harry never noticed himself falling as he was forced to relive the last moments of his past six lives in flashback.

The sound of his bones crunching beneath tires was clear in his mind and the pain that came with being crushed by tires echoed in his bones. Both were clear and vivid reminders that he was, or should be, dead. It took him longer to place the fading daylight and the dice game. With the realization that the blonde was the cause of his death, the brief feeling of her hands pushing him backward as green dice disappeared into thin air, came anger, anger at himself, anger at the blonde, anger at Voldemort for just not dying. Anger that was soon replaced with the feeling that he was missing something.

Then there was brief darkness, penetrated by a loud beeping noise and a healer's rapid-fire explanation that there was nothing they could do proceeded. Harry felt a deep sadness that made the pain of his illness seem less then it was. Then came feelings of betrayal, understanding, the anger that never seemed to really leave, and a vow to never forgive.

There was a moment of confusion, of wondering why he was experiencing these feelings, then Ginny's gentle face came into view. Her eyes reflecting the deep sorrow he had just felt, as she apologized for the fact that he was no longer needed and forced a glowing, neon blue potion down his throat.

Once again, there was darkness, and then a flash of green and the feeling of relief. But then, Hermione screaming as he faced down the snake-faced monster, self-named Voldemort, and there was fear and desperation. That death had been fast and painless except for the ache in his heart. As the darkness took him once more, Harry realized that all these disjointed, unconnected memories were of death. His death.

Then the wind was rushing past him as he fell through the night sky, a high-pitched scream following him as the stone walls of a tower flashed by in a blur of gray. Before that had been….the sound of shattering glass and Ron's angry face as his best friend yelled and ranted about betrayal and the memory of Hermione's warm lips. Teenage love at its finest and once more Harry’s heart ached with the loss as all faded to black.

And then there was light, bright with the colors of yellow and red as a fire was rushing at him, from him, engulfing the Dursley's as his uncle rained punches and curses upon his already battered body. He had just been a boy at that time, no more than four or five.

Black once more, and then, another flash of green, a high-pitched laugh, his mother's pleas for mercy… then … finally silence.

There wasn’t a thump or pain that normally accompanied the impact of a body with a surface, but as moments passed Harry was aware that he wasn’t falling anymore more. In fact, he was lying still, gasping for breath, as if he had just run a great distance or faced down a hundred dementors. Harry kept his eyes closed, listening to voices trying to place where they were coming from and failing as his mind struggled to process all that he had seen. The best thought he could come up with was “What the bloody buggering fuck, am I finally dead?” Although the words came out muffled, most likely due to the hand pressing down on his mouth.

“Who the hell are you?” Harry opened his eyes, squinting in the darkness, struggling to make out anything about the person on top of him.

The hand pressed harder as if the owner of the hand to stop him from making any noise at all by pressing hard enough. “Shut up before you get us caught,” a female voice hissed in his ear.

Harry licked the hand, and as the owner was pulling it away, bit down on it hard, catching one finger hard enough to draw blood. He was moving even as he was biting. Hands, trained from what was apparently lifetimes of fighting the Dark Lord reaching up to wrap around a slender throat, even as he rolled, pinning the unknown woman beneath him.

His eyes adjusting to the dim light that he now realized was coming from somewhere deeper in the room, Harry looked down, taking in the shadow he was sitting on. “You will tell me what the bloody hell is going on and then, and only then, will I decide whether or not I will kill you.”

The body below him shook.

_‘Is she laughing?’_

And then, Harry found himself on the ground once more. “I like you, Harry Potter.”

 

###### 

"I think I can pay the price of the pot. I'm in," Order smirked, reaching around Royal to nudge his mistress to throw in as well before writing a name on a scrap of paper which he then threw into the pot in the middle of the table where it disappeared in a puff of smoke. His actions were quickly copied by Order's brother, Chaos, as the petulant man would not allow himself to be outdone by his twin, and then, as the two brothers glared at, or towards, her, Destiny was finally caved, sighing deeply as she scribbled a name down on a scrap of paper Chaos shoved into her hands.

"Why the long face Desi dear?" Royal asked the disturbed looking immortal, pressing against her back, all warm skin and cold silk. "Are your current lovers leaving you unsatisfied? Come over to the dark side pet. We have cookies…and whipped cream."

Destiny frowned as Royal Love's breath tickled her ear, teasing her with the promise of dark nights filled with a simmering heat. She did not doubt the offer. She would have to be blind to miss the lust Royal Love had in his eyes whenever he glanced her way. Still, she had already chosen a side and thrown her lots in with Order, so she tensed her body and did her best ignore the temptation breathing in her ear and caressing her body beneath the table.

"No? Pet, are you sure? How about a taste, a free sample so to speak, just to let those two perverts in on what they are missing out on." Love whispered in Destiny's ear, licking the shell of it, before turning and pulling the full-figured woman tight against him and claiming the shell pink lips as he had been longing to since the beginning of the game. Royal Love flicked his gaze upward as he drew a breathy moan from the goddess. Knowing eyes twinkled at the matching scowls the brothers wore, and he held the kiss for a moment longer before releasing Destiny with a grin. "See, pet; I told you I was better than either of your current lovers." Royal Love said loudly enough for the two men to hear, purposefully antagonizing them.

"Mmmm," was the only response that Destiny could come up with at the time, and sadly, it seemed to be the wrong one, as both men squawked as one. The yelling and arm waving went downhill from there, just as planned.

###### 

“Don’t even think about yelling,” the woman hissed again before standing and yanking Harry to his feet. A slender hand that was stronger than it should have been wrapped around his wrist. Sharp nails pierced his wrist with the tightness of her grip as the woman drug Harry through the darkness at a fast walk, carefully steering him around shadows that took the form as various pieces of furniture before they disappeared in the darkness.

They skirted close to the area where the lights were, and Harry could make out the forms of others, dark shadows against the light, but the woman had turned on him, clamping one hand over his mouth before he could get a word out. Both hands tightened painfully as she hissed in his ear, “one noise and I knock you out and drag your unconscious body to hell before waking you up.”

Harry glared at the woman, before nodding consent. He would be quiet for now, but that didn’t mean his obedience would last. The fast walk resumed, the pace actually picking up as the pair made it past the furniture and into what Harry judged to be an open walkway.

One moment he is being pulled through complete darkness, then, in the space of a second, he is being shoved through a door into a brightly lit hallway. The change left Harry was blinking the spots from his eyes even as the woman took off again. Harry let the woman lead, instead focusing on his surroundings, taking in sterile white walls and polished floors of some dark tile thread with gold streaks. The light seemed to be coming from the ceiling, though he couldn’t see any actual light fixtures.

Harry was in the process of counting the number of doors they had passed when the woman turned sharply and pulled him through a door of white wood.

“Is this a toilet?”

"Maybe, but don’t worry about it. The ‘where’ really isn’t important in the grand scheme of things." The blonde in front of him sounded irritated as she fussed at the door, her back to him as if she didn’t consider him to be a threat…something that served to further irritate Harry.

The blonde huffed slightly, an annoyed but ‘I will humor you for the moment sound’, as she turned to face him, lifting herself up to balance on the edge of the sink. The fluffy white skirt rose up, revealing even more leg for Harry to follow upwards as strappy gold and diamond shoes swung towards his face, effectively catching his attention and cutting off the growling questions he had been about to start up once more.

“Really you are lucky I like you so much.” The blonde said, causing Harry’s gaze to shift from his perusal of the legs that never seemed to end and the temptingly short skirt, to the equally white top that was set off by some sort of fancy gold net thing, to pale blue eyes that sparkled with humor and mischief.

Harry raised his eyebrows, as he took in the perfect face and short hair, firmly placing her as the woman from his dream. Or was that a nightmare? Or reality? At this point, he was too confused to do more than recognize that for whatever reason, she had wanted him dead. The realization left him completely unimpressed with the woman’s attitude. “Is that why you shoved me under a car because you liked me?”

The woman opened her mouth to say...something. Whatever it was, Harry wasn’t in the mood to hear it and he lifted one hand in the universal gesture of shut-the-fuck-up-right-now before continuing. “Look, Lady, I don’t know who you are. Where I am. Or what is going on, and I am getting very, very tired of being led around through dark rooms without being told what the bloody fuck is going on.” Harry paused between the last words spitting them in a tone that was corrosive at the best as he leaned forward into the woman’s personal space using his upper body to press her back into the mirror behind the sink she was sitting on. His hands slamming down on the counter to either side of her.

A small part of him, small enough to be drowned out by his mental Hermione’s “Oh, Harry,” was tempted to turn the water on, just to see what the lady would do, but he was much to mature for that.

“Now. You will tell me why it is that you had me run over by a car driven by a Voldermort wannabe. You will tell me where I am. And you will tell me who you are and what you want from me, or I am going to leave this room and just keep walking.” Harry backed up and leaned against the door to prove his point. He had no idea where he was, but he was sure that if he walked around long enough someone who could point him in the right direction would appear.

Death sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. This conversation was not going the way she had hoped. She was Death. He was supposed to be listening to her demands, not making them.

"Look. I can’t tell you where we are because if I do we will get caught and I will have to pay the price, which could be nothing, but it could also be very detrimental to my end goals." The blonde huffed sliding off the sink and leaning against the wall opposite Harry and the door.

"As for pushing you under the car.” The blonde paused to shrug before crossing her arms across her chest. “I am sorry, but your death was necessary, so I could play the power card to hide the fact that you are here, among other things."

Harry opened his mouth to start the questions again, but the blonde held up a hand. “Look, I know you have questions, heaven forgive me, but I would have them too if I had just died so that Death could wizardnap me; but the truth is, I don’t have the time to explain everything to you in detail. You are just going to have to trust me.” Death tapped one long nail against a pale arm, before sighing and leaning her head back against the wall.

Harry was just turning to unlock the door when the woman started talking again.

“Fine! Just! Just stop. Stop and listen. Simply put you are currently in the woman’s toilet outside the game room within one of the many pocket dimensions gods and goddess reside in when not physically on Earth, or some other planet for whatever reason. Think Olympus, Asgard, Heaven…” Death trailed off, pausing for a second before continuing. “You are here so that I can give you direct instructions and have you sign a contract that will allow you access to information that will help you to win the current game that is being played.”

Death paused and rubbed her temples. Harry looked like he was about to walk out the door again, and really, she didn't blame the kid. “As I said, you are going to have to trust me.” Death sighed, again. She hadn’t sighed this much since the 1970’s. “Wait! If you need proof, just wait a second. I need to grab something and then I can show you.”

Death pulled the contract and a ballpoint pen from the vase of fake flowers that stood on the back of the toilet seat, before gesturing for Harry to step away from the door. “Let me be very clear Harry, what you are about to see and hear is going beyond cheating and could get me in some serious trouble, but it is the only way I can think of to give you the proof you obviously need to go along with my plan. What we are about to go into right now, you can’t talk about, not with anyone.” Death opened the door and looked at Harry. “I need your word on this.”

Harry huffed, he still thought the woman was insane, she did claim to be Death after all, but it seemed as though he was finally going to get answers. While he didn’t trust her, especially with the sudden change in attitude, she at least seemed sincere in this. “Fine, you have my word. I won’t say anything.”

Death frowned slightly, but it seemed as though that was the best she was going to get and she was already pushing time as it was. Finally, she nodded and opened the door, gesturing for Harry to follow and talking while she walked. “Right now, us gods are going through a... power struggle of sorts. Instead of blasting each other and destroying what we're trying to lord over, we instead play a nice calm game. People are picked down on the earth and we take control of each person we have power over. Not literally. I can't control your mind. But I can say influence your luck, your aim, sickness, who you meet, and in some extreme cases... intervene. Like, say save you from death. Six times.”

Death paused at the door taking a deep breath and grinning. This was madness. It was also rather fun. "It's fairly complicated and I honestly can't explain it all to you right now. All I can say is that we're in the last round of the game and I'm losing. And when I lose, you lose as well." She continued before pushing the door open enough for a single body to slip through and leading Harry through the darkened game room to a vantage point where Harry could see the other gods and goddess gathered around the table.

“My lovers,” Death started, pointing to a man with long hair on the far side of the table and a woman with chocolate skin who was standing closer to them, “Royal Love and The Fickle Lady Luck, are currently doing the best they can to provide a distraction so that I can meet with you. They are working with me, but their characters will have goals of their own. The one in Royal’s arms, that is Destiny. We are trying to sway her to our side of the Game, but right now it seems like her lovers,” Death paused to point to the two gods Chaos and Order, “have a good hold on her. Order is the one who challenged me to the Game. If he wins, your world is fucked, as you like to say.”

Death paused there giving Harry a chance to watch and listen.

“What about her?” Harry asked pointing to the blonde hanging off the one Death had identified as Order.

“She is Fickle’s twin, the Fair-Weather Friend. She is just a spectator for this round.” Death explained and the pair lapsed into silence, allowing the sound of the groups’ voices to carry to their hiding spot.

“Calm down brother. Really, Desi dear isn’t leaving us, she is just trying to rile you up a bit. Not that I blame her with the way you are letting Fair-Weather hang off you.” Chaos said laughing. “Come now and give me a kiss, pet.” Chaos said, leaning in to kiss Destiny before winking at Royal. “Oh, don’t look so outraged love, how about a little personal wager, just between the two of us. Say if my brother wins, and with his Voldemort he will win, you leave your lovers and join Desi and I in bed until another god wins you away from us. If you precious Death wins, and with the characters she has been choosing I don’t see how that will happen, Order and I will release sweet Desi completely into your care. Until we win her back in another game.”

“I have complete faith that Death will win this game. You and your brother may have stacked the rounds against her, but it takes a lot more than the punches you have been throwing to win against her. I am in if Lady Destiny agrees? What say you sweet lady, are you in?” Royal asked hugging Destiny tight as she nodded her agreement and frowning in the general direction of the Fickle Lady.

Order snorted and started speaking, but his words were lost to her as Harry was whispering beside her once more.

“Wait, Voldemort? Is this man the reason Voldemort choose me instead of Neville?" Harry hissed at Death, poking her to get her attention away from her lovers and back on him.

"Not completely, Chaos had his fingers in the mix as well. However, Order used a protection card and I knew I could bring you back. They didn't expect that. Order was so angry when that happened that he accidentally created another problem for himself and helped me. Chaos being involved in his brother’s schemes hasn’t really helped Order as much as he would have liked either. Anyone, god or human, Chaos spends too much time with develops a bit of madness. It is his gift.” Death replied. “Order can’t see it though, he has won every round up to now.”

“We are going to have to talk about this Royal. Death isn’t going to be happy with what you just did.” Fickle was shouting across the table.

“Death will understand Fickle. She wants Destiny just as much as you and I do. We have talked about her joining us long before the Game started.” Royal said.

“Yes, but betting away yourself,” Fickle started, stopping and shaking her head before turning away from the group.

“Wait, you called them your lovers. Are with both of them?” Harry asked as his mind finally processed what the fight was about.

“Oh, yes,” Death said. “Trust me Harry, when love is offered you take it, no matter who or how many. There is no such thing as too much Love.”

Death pulled out the contract and pen, passing them both over to Harry. “This is the contract I mentioned earlier. Basically, it says that with this being the final round of the game the other gods and I are playing, and you being my purchased piece, I owe you… favors… yeah, I’ll go with favors. Seeing as you have died six times under my watch, you will receive all the perks and abilities that come with being Death’s chosen, and you can read them later-I will sneak a copy of the scroll into your vault. It also says that in exchange for my help, specifically in arranging for you to be returned with memories intact, to an age and time where you will be most able to win the game. You will also collect and protect my three Hallows that have fallen into your realm during the course of gameplay. See, nothing bad. All you have to do is kill Tom Riddle, figure out what you want to do with your life, bond with your soul mates some Granger girl and there were…..four others I think, Royal would know who exactly, and live happily ever after.”

Death paused and grinned at Harry who was trying to catch up with everything she said and was failing horribly. “Please sign. It isn’t like I am going to ask you to do something you will find distasteful, not to mention that my lovers and I will be doing everything we can to help you out.

Death reached over and rolled the scroll to the correct place and pointed to the spot. “Now. You will sign this or all of those you care about are doomed. This is my last gamble, Harry. Right now I'm down to practically nothing. Fickle luck, a reroll, and some other things. I might be able to get something during the round that could help but I'm down to my last plan. You. More specifically you knowing exactly what's happening.”

Harry gulped as the blonde’s tone went from friendly to cold faster than Hermione on a bad day. His eyes jerked from death to the other gods in the room, still joking with one another with that constant threatening undertone. This was utterly insane. Go back in time, stop Voldemort again, get the three Hallows, and apparently live happily ever after with five soulmates which are four soulmates too many. As much as he wanted to burn the contract in front of her, deep down he believed her. It felt real. And the chance to do it all over, fix his mistakes, save people, stay one step ahead...

With another cautious look at the blonde calling herself Death, grabbed the pen and signed his name, before rubbing the back of his now bleeding hand with a glare.

“What, you didn’t think something this serious could be signed in ink, did you? No, it had to be blood. Now goodnight Harry Potter. And thank you.”

Harry blinked and wondered what the woman was going on about now as she poked him solidly in the middle of her forehead...and then, the world went black once more.

Death watched as Harry Potter fell back into his own world, unsure of when exactly he would end up, before slipping back out of the game room and back to the bathroom to slip the scroll and pen back into the vase, where one of her reapers would collect it once she left, straightened her hair and dress and walked back towards the game room. She paused at the door and taking a deep, steadying breath, focused on the magic of the contract which should allow her to erase the time that Harry was in the Game Room and beyond, for his protection of course.

She laughed, a little hysterically, as she stood there, leaning against the door for support. ‘I steal time from mortals every day, but this is the first day I have stolen life from Time.’

###### 

Royal smirked and tipped his drink slightly at Death. Death greeted Royal with a smirk of her own, her gaze flashing down to where her lover had one arm wrapped around Destiny's waist in a casual embrace. Royal shot her a wink in return and Death grinned, feeling rather pleased with herself.

“It is a good thing you weren’t gone very long, darling,” the Fickle Lady purred as Death retook her spot between the dark skinned goddess and Order. “Royal decided to up the ante while you were gone. We both know that it is a bad idea for him to get bored.” the Fickle Lady wrapped one arm around Death’s waist and squeezed under Death’s arm, a sign that nothing had happened outside of the planned distraction.

"Has everyone paid in?" Death asked, flashing the small, prepared, slip of paper containing the name of her successor as the last warning to do or fold. The bickering stopped at this point, everyone turning to face the table. The Game was about to begin.

"Wait!" A soft masculine voice called out, stopping Death, her hand poised over the pot, from dropping her ante in and starting the round. "I am in." It was hard to tell if the newcomer was male or female. Balance was very androgynous, being neither male nor female, rather seeking to blend the attributes of the two. Balance, in human form, was beautiful, an exquisite work of art.

Death pulled her hand back and waited as Balance dropped two slips of paper into the pot before returning to stand in what had once been Royal's spot.

"The last round of This Game begins. The spots you are in are yours for the remainder of the round. If you leave the table before the break, your piece will be forfeit.," Death said dropping her slip into the pot and turning to face the table, picking up the velvet game bag and removing the two dice from within. "Choose your piece," and with that, Death scattered the pieces across the table.

Royal grinned as he fiddled with the small statue that represented his character, wondering if the change would be enough to create the advantages his dark mistress wanted. The small creature was not one he would normally choose, but everyone deserved love. The little fellow, if played right could provide a great deal of help and if Death’s main character could achieve their goals, then his other side, Lusty Love, had plans to reward both pieces generously. He knew Death’s piece had always dreamed of a large family.

‘Am I becoming too predictable?’ Order frowned as he wondered if he too should have selected a different character. The rush to change hadn’t been missed by him, though everyone’s hands had moved too fast for him to see who grabbed which piece. Looking around the table, he noticed that all but Death were keeping their pieces secret and he couldn't help but wonder what this last round would bring. Either way, his personal play piece, had created protections and had nothing to lose. The piece was reliable and predictable, even in it’s madness. Besides, it was a little late to start doubting himself now.

Chaos frowned at the glowing red number in front of him. His own character wasn't as strong, often played, or the one he had really wanted, but his foolish eldest brother had gotten the piece first. Still, he had little doubt that his player could cause a great deal of mischief if given the opportunity, but inferior rolls like the one that he had been getting would do little to give the red-haired boy the power boost he needed.

Destiny kept her face passive as she graced the small girlish statute in her hand with a brush of her lips. She knew that Order had seen her change characters, and could but hope that he didn't realize that she was no longer willing to be his bitch. The brothers may have won the ability to control her in a foolish bet, but she could feel the threads of destiny rewriting themselves. The Game was changing. This round would be different, she could feel it. She was tired of watching her children cry and well, the brothers never told her she had to tell them everything.

Fair-Weather Luck twisted her face into a frown as she looked at her darker-skinned sister on the other side of the table. She could only hope that the character her fickle twin selected would not be enough to make much of a difference. She had wagered a life’s service to Order on the outcome of this Game. She would not, could not, lose her freedom. Not now. The Fair-Weather Lady ground her teeth together in determination. All she could do was watch as her dark-skinned sister grinned mischievously at her from where she stood snuggled into the side of Death who finally joined them at the table.

Fickle Luck grinned and let her fair twin know with a wink that there was indeed a plan in motion and that she should worry. She took a quick glance at her several pieces, she cradled them her hands. Even the smallest people had their parts to play and, with her help, this couple could help change the course of the magical world. Even if their lack of magic gave them little in the way of status.

Death, back from her randevú with her first piece, frowned at her second player piece. Though most of the other players had taken a turn with the piece in previous rounds, this was her first time touching it, and, if she thought foisting the piece on another player would help her cause, she would have. Sadly, as much as she hated the character, there was a small chance the desires of the old man in her hand could help her main piece. Death frowned, tapping the older man with a finger. ‘If only the two characters could learn to get along.'

Balance smiled down at the small statue he held in his hand. The piece had been hard used by Chaos. The piece had suffered, but it was not yet broken. The little guy would serve will to help the magic of the world achieve balance.

Death waited until every player had their player statute or two in her case. With a grin to Royal and her dark but fickle Luck, who was smirking in turn at her twin, Death flipped over the first power card and passed the dice to Order. The last round had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this, thank you. I do hope it wasn't too confusing. For those interested, I am about halfway through the rewrite of the next chapter/part/whatever of this story.
> 
> Thank you, again, for reading.
> 
> XO, Lovers


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